


Sitting on the Edge

by RakshaTheDemon



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, For the Girl Who Has Everything spoilers, Gen, can be read as pre-supercat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6076026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RakshaTheDemon/pseuds/RakshaTheDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat finds Kara sitting on the balcony's ledge, and becomes very worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitting on the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This is something of an alternate ending to For The Girl Who Has Everything. Contains major spoilers, so consider yourself warned.

The balcony doors were open, and it was Kara’s fault.

Exactly _how_ it was Kara’s fault wasn’t entirely clear since the girl had gone home hours before Cat, but that detail could be figured out later. The important thing was that it was definitely Kara’s fault. Just like it was Kara’s fault that Cat had left the office without her tablet. The girl was supposed to always be around to make sure Cat didn’t _do_ things like that.

Cat gave an exaggerated sigh even though no one was around to hear it. Lately it seemed Kara couldn’t be bothered with the needs of other people, even when those people were specifically _paying her_ to tend to those needs. Cat would be sure to berate her for that in the morning, after complaining about the dismal taste of her latte and before somehow making Kara responsible for leaving her office open to the elements.

Anyone else would’ve been facing termination in the morning. A voice in the back of Cat’s mind wondered why Kara deserved differently. That question merited some mulling over, and the best way to do that was while drinking a nice scotch out on the balcony. She poured herself a little bit more than usual, and told herself it was purely because she liked the taste.

She made it two steps over the threshold before nearly dropping her glass.

On the far side of the balcony, perched on the narrow railing and facing the open air, was Kara. Her head was tilted up toward the sky, hands clasped in front of her. There was nothing holding her in place; nothing to stop her from pitching forward and tumbling hundreds of feet down. With horror Cat realized that Kara’s whole upper body was rocking back and forth gently.

Cat tightened her grip on the scotch so that it would crash and startle Kara into falling.

What the hell was she _doing?_ Didn’t she realize how incredibly _stupid_ she was being? Cat wanted to scream at her for being such a reckless idiot, but fear kept her mouth clamped shut.

It was a rare moment where Cat didn’t know what to do. She was afraid to speak, to move, to _breathe_. Kara was teetering on a knife’s edge, and there were too many ways for this to go so very wrong.

But doing nothing wasn’t an option. Cat shoved her fear to the side, replacing it with the conviction that she could handle any crisis. She’d been in worse situations and made it out fine. This would be no different.

Cat eased her way further onto the balcony, one cautious step at a time. As she approached she realized that Kara was speaking. It was a language Cat didn’t recognize, but the words had the cadence of something spoken by rote. Kara’s swaying movements matched the rhythm of her voice.

The sound and motion both stopped abruptly. “Ms. Grant,” Kara said with just the slightest turn of her head toward Cat.

“Kiera,” Cat tried to keep her voice even, “what the hell are you doing?”

Kara didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Praying.”

Cat’s stomach twisted. She thought back to how Kara had been acting recently, and could have kicked herself. It was obvious in hindsight. Kara had been so much more distant, so much less reliable in her work. Somehow Cat had been narcissistic enough to think it was all retaliation for her putting boundaries between them. But this? Dangling on a ledge twenty-three stories up, _praying_? This was something deeper, something dark and dangerous.

And if Cat had been paying attention she would have picked up that something was wrong. There were probably signs going back weeks, months.

She needed to fix this.

“You could do that on _this_ side of the railing,” she said. She set her glass down on the rail a few feet from Kara and took a couple of tentative steps forward. “Let me help you--.”

“I’d rather be left alone if you don’t mind,” Kara’s back went stiff as she spoke. Her voice carried a sudden edge, and the look she gave Cat was hard as steel. It stopped Cat in her tracks.

She recovered quickly. “That isn’t going to happen.”

Kara stared at Cat for a long moment, and Cat could think of nothing to do but stare back. Kara’s face held no trace of her usual sunny self. Instead she looked worn, her features pulled down by whatever weight had brought her here.

“I’m not going to fall,” Kara said at last.

“I’ve seen you trip over air, so you’ll forgive my skepticism.”

Kara gave a small shrug. “If I do, maybe Supergirl will catch me.”

“ _Kiera._ ”

“I’m _fine_ , Ms. Grant.”

“No, you’re not.”

Kara’s eyes darted to the side in a telltale sign of unease. One hand fidgeted with her glasses.

Cat kept talking, not giving Kara a chance to argue. “I know I said I wanted to keep things professional between us, but I think that’s going to have to be retracted for now. So come inside with me and we’ll talk about whatever’s going on.”

Kara seemed to consider the offer. Cat held her breath as she waited, silently willing Kara to agree.

But Kara shook her head. “Don’t you need to get home to Carter?”

“He’ll be fine with the nanny for a while longer. And she’s getting paid extra for staying late, so don’t go feeling guilty on her behalf.” After a pause she added, “And for whatever reason Carter seems to like you, so I doubt he’d ever forgive me if you got hurt after I left you here alone.”

Was mentioning her son this way manipulative? Yes. But from the way Kara’s expression changed it was having the desired effect. Cat could wrestle with the moral implications later.

Wordlessly Kara began to turn herself around on the ledge. Cat stepped forward to help, keeping a hand on either side of Kara so she wouldn’t fall. Cat didn’t step away until both of Kara’s feet were firmly planted on the concrete.

As soon as that happened Cat stalked back to where she’d left her drink and downed it in one go.

“Ms. Grant, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

Cat held up a finger for quiet as she finished off the last few drops of scotch. When she lowered the glass her hand was shaking visibly. The danger was gone, but adrenaline still pumped through her veins. It would probably be hours before she felt completely normal again.

She really wanted to scream at Kara for being a reckless imbecile. Instead she simply said, “Inside.” Kara went without complaint and Cat followed after. She closed the balcony doors behind herself.

Kara stood in the middle of the office, her hands alternating between playing with the fabric of her skirt and adjusting her glasses. “Ms Grant, that wasn’t...what it looked like.” As she spoke she looked around the room at everything that wasn’t Cat.

“Explain,” Cat demanded. She put her glass on the bar, but didn’t refill it yet. Instead she watched Kara, and waited.

“I was just--I wasn’t trying to--” she took a shuddering breath. “Look, a lot of stuff’s been happening, and I just...needed some time alone. I didn’t think anyone was going see me. I never meant for you to worry. I should--I’ll just go home.”

She actually turned on her heel and walked toward the door, apparently thinking there was a chance Cat would let her simply _leave_ after what just happened.

“Kiera, sit.”

Kara froze in place. “Ms. Grant, really. You don’t need to--”

“ _Sit._ ”

Kara did as she was told, albeit slowly, sitting on the couch that faced the bar.

Cat debated pouring a second scotch, ultimately turning down the idea on the grounds that she might need to be relatively sober for this. Instead she picked up the jar of jelly beans and carried it to the coffee table. She sat down directly opposite Kara, took out a handful of the candies, and ate one.

She watched Kara expectantly. The girl was still steadfastly avoiding eye contact, focusing instead on her hands in her lap. Cat popped another jellybean. If she waited long enough Kara would feel compelled to talk just to fill the silence.

She ate through her entire handful of candy before accepting that waiting wasn’t going to be the most effective tactic right now. For once Kara would need to be coaxed into talking. Well Cat could certainly handle that.

“You weren’t speaking English before.”

Kara’s head snapped up. Her brow was furrowed; she clearly hadn’t expected that to be Cat’s first comment. Good. People always spoke more freely when you caught them off-guard.

Cat felt her anxiety begin to ebb away, replaced with a calm sense of focus. This was just an interview, like the thousands upon thousands of others she’d conducted. She was in control here.

“No, I wasn’t,” Kara said after a pause.

“I’ve heard a lot of languages, but that one didn’t sound familiar.”

“It was just...something that my parents taught me. A prayer for--” she cut herself off, her gaze dropping to her lap again. Her hands were wringing the fabric of her skirt like a dishcloth.

“For what?” Cat prompted.

“For the dead.” Kara’s voice broke on the final word. One leg began jittering up and down.

That was it then. She’d lost someone.

Again.

“I’m sorry.” It seemed an inadequate thing to say. “Who...?”

“My aunt.”

“Were you two close?”

Kara shook her head. “I used to be. She used to take care of me when I was little, and she’d tell me stories and sing songs and--and--” she took a shuddering breath. Her leg bounced faster. “But then she went away. And then the--the _accident_ happened. And I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again. When I finally did she was so _different_ . She was angry and spiteful and so full of pain. It was like she wasn’t _her_ anymore. For awhile I even thought I was better off without her in my life. I _wanted_ her gone, and now…”

“It isn’t your fault,” Cat said gently.

“I was there. When she--I was with her. She looked so...” Her eyes met Cat’s for the first time since they’d sat down. Tear tracks lined her cheeks. “She and my mom--they were twins. Identical.”

“Shit,” Cat breathed.

“It was like losing both of them _again_ . Like I was back to being thirteen and my parents were sending me away from them forever, and there was _nothing_ I could do about it. How many times do I have to lose _everything?_ ” Her voice rose in pitch, her entire body seeming to shake with the force of her anguish. “It isn’t _fair_ . Everyone that I love _dies_ , and I’m just _left_ here, alone. I never asked to be the one who got to live! I never wanted any of this! And now Astra is gone and it _isn’t fucking fair!_ ”

Kara’s fist slammed against the arm of the couch. There was resounding _crack_ of splintering wood accompanied by the whine of ripping fabric. The entire arm of the couch had swung away from Kara’s fist as easily as an open door. It hung at an angle, held up by the upholstery that still connected it to the back of the couch.

With that everything shifted into place. All the little idiosyncrasies--the little oddities about Kara that had been frustratingly difficult to categorize and account for--could now be neatly explained and filed away. Kara was Supergirl. With that confirmation the world immediately began to make more sense.

Under different circumstances Cat would have found some humor in that.

Kara froze, her fist still hovering in the air where the couch arm had been a moment ago. She looked at Cat with wide eyes. “I...it...it must’ve been damaged...when the um...when...”

“When it was hit by Supergirl.”

“I’m not…” the argument died on her lips. She slumped back against the cushions and folded her arms around herself. Her eyes squeezed shut. A moment later she was shaking with quiet sobs.

The truth of what Kara’s identity meant struck Cat like a knife to the chest. She had truly lost everything--her family, her friends, anyone and everyone she had ever met. She’d lost a _planet_ , a whole planet that was probably filled with big cities of people, just like earth. And now she’d lost someone else.

Cat was up and moving before she had time to question what she was doing. She settled onto the couch beside Kara, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. There was a moment of resistance, Kara’s muscles going stiff under Cat’s touch, before she let herself be pulled against Cat’s side.

That was all it took for whatever defenses Kara had left to come crashing down. She buried her face in Cat’s shoulder and sobbed until her tears soaked through the silk shirt. Her fingers gripped the fabric like it was the only thing holding her tethered in place.

Between choked sobs and hitching breaths Kara told Cat everything. The words were muffled by Cat’s shoulder, but she caught most of it. She listened as Kara talked about losing her entire family, about the nightmares of being trapped in a tiny ship while the world exploded in fire. She learned about the day Kara had discovered her aunt still lived.

Kara told her about the six girls who died to create Bizarro, and the seventh who now lay unconscious in a hospital bed waiting for the day she might be given her life back. Seven girls treated like nothing more than lab rats because someone wanted to make Supergirl suffer. It made Cat sick to her stomach.

And Kara told her about the Black Mercy, the parasite that made her believe Krypton had never died. Her voice broke as she described waking in her old bed to see her mother standing across the room, and again when she spoke of her cousin. When she described needing to leave that fantasy to return to the real world her voice was so broken with sobs that Cat almost couldn’t make it out.

She spoke of how she’d sought vengeance against the person who put her through that hell. Cat didn’t say anything--she couldn’t bring herself to speak while Kara was bearing her soul--but silently she cursed whoever had hurt Kara with as much vehemence as she knew how.

Kara had gone after him, she said, had fought him with a viciousness that would probably shame her ancestors. Cat couldn’t in a million years imagine Kara as vicious, superpowers or no. She saw the claim for what it was: mis-attributed guilt. Because while Kara had been satisfying her rage, her aunt had been in a battle with whichever government forces Supergirl aided. And without Kara there to contain the Kryptonian threat, the fight had turned lethal.

It wasn’t her fault, Cat thought as Kara described seeing her aunt’s limp form on the concrete. Kara was just a child, not even out of her twenties. How could she be expected to carry this much weight?

A long time passed before Kara’s sobs subsided. It took longer for her to finally disentangle herself from Cat and sit upright once again, her body still nearly folded in on itself. Cat grabbed the box of tissues from the far end of the coffee table and passed them over, then waited while Kara took a moment to clean herself up.

“Are you going to fire me?” Kara asked, her voice hoarse.

“I don’t know.” It was the honest answer. “It still seems like a waste of time to have you here, when you could be out saving lives.”

“What about _my_ life? Don’t I get to keep that safe?”

Cat didn’t have an answer for that. “I think we both need to rest and take some time to think about this. Are you okay to go home?”  Kara nodded. “Order yourself a cab, and charge it to the company card.”

Kara actually smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll get home faster if I just fly.”

“Fine. Do you live by yourself?” Cat didn’t want to think about Kara sitting alone in her apartment, obsessing over what had happened until she was back in that dark place.

“My sister’s staying over tonight,” Kara said.

“Good.” After a moment’s hesitation she added, “Text me when you get there.”

“Of course, Ms. Grant.” For the first time in what seemed like days Kara laughed. Not a big laugh, but a genuine one. Cat realized just how much she’d missed that sound.

It meant that things were going to be okay.


End file.
